


Drink up boys.

by Captainshield



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bar Kiss, First Kiss, Gay Chicken, M/M, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27261724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captainshield/pseuds/Captainshield
Summary: They drink and they kiss. That's it. That's the whole thing.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo Round Two





	Drink up boys.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for the Winterhawk bingo and idk if I've written them in character or not so any feedback is welcome.  
> This is for the prompt gay chicken and turned out a whole lot more wholesome than i intended...

When Bucky walked into the bar the little bell atop the door chimed merrily and Clint and Natasha’s eyes found him subconsciously, eyeing whoever came in the door, looking for threats. Even 2 jugs of beer and two Jager shots each hadn’t dampened the well-honed skills of agents who had to rely on that skill to save lives. 

Bucky had always been rather imposing, not quite as tall as Clint but broader and more muscular as much as it pained Clint to admit. Harmless once overs from bar patrons turned into a rapid flick of the eyes away from Bucky. It wasn’t so much his fault, he just had an air of menace about him that was undeniable, even to the untrained eye. 

Bucky didn’t need to look around to find their table, making quick eye contact with Natasha, he swiftly made his way to squish in opposite her, next to Clint. Their shoulders pressed together with the sheer amount of arm muscle between the two of them. Clint noted that Natasha’s eyes dipped down to observe this with a twinkle in her eye. 

“Long day?” Clint asked conversationally, noting the way the ends of Bucky’s wet hair had started to curl and hang in his face. On anybody else it would seem  _ shy _ . 

Bucky hummed noncommittally, “Nah, just had to get Steve settled. He doesn’t take well to being injured, never has”. Bucky’s lips curved up in a hint of a smile and when Clint blinked again it was gone. 

Natasha’s lips tugged up at the corners, “I’d like to see him stay in that bed longer than a day”.

Clint snorted and took a sip of his drink. Yeah right. The possibility of Steve Rogers taking it easy was laughable. It was lucky they had Bucky now, the stubborn idiot actually got looked over by doctors now. Coulson thought Clint was bad, then he met Steve. He never gave Clint flack about his reluctance in the hospital again. He was a little smug about it. 

Clint looked up from his beer to see Bucky had a bottle of something Clint had never seen before. 

“What’s that?” He asked, unable to help himself. Clint had been to a lot of bars, practically grew up in them, and the deep purple colour of the bottle was unique. It didn't have a label, and Bucky certainly hadn’t gotten up to the bar to order it. Admittedly that would’ve been hilarious. Bucky was polite, but people never seemed to get passed the  _ menace _ . 

Bucky wafted the bottle a little close to Clint so the other could smell it. “Stark and Banner special” he mused.

Clint winced, his nose scrunching with the need to sneeze. It smelt like Jager mixed with tequila with a side of Wanda’s dishwashing detergent, and Clint didn’t want to know how it tasted if the smell was that off putting. Natasha snorted at his reaction. 

Clint watched Bucky take a sip, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion. Some of the water from his hair had dripped onto his chest, ever so slightly darkening the black of his long sleeved shirt. “How’s it taste?” 

Bucky’s face did a funny sort of twitch that Clint for all his training and experience couldn’t decipher and said “Like I’m going to get drunk”. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Natasha challenged, raising what looked like a glass of water but Clint knew it to be vodka. 

Clint chugged the rest of his beer and grinned, gesturing for their server for another. The girl had bright orange hair and dark tattoo’s along her arms. She rolled her eyes with a smile. She had gotten used to them, as much as anyone can get used to the odd trio, and she knew Clint and Natasha’s orders off the top of her head. 

Natasha crossed her arms on the dark wood of their round table and sighed, “I’m going to regret having your two drunk dumb asses together aren’t i?”

Bucky just raised his drink to his lips and Clint shrugged. 

Every time Clint looked to his right It looked like Bucky was trying not to grimace every time he put it his drink down from sipping.

Natasha got up to go to the bathroom and Clint slid over along the bench seat so he could face Bucky better. His long sleeve shirt was unbuttoned down past his clavicle but you couldn’t see the metal grafted onto his shoulder. Clint idly wondered if Bucky had done that on purpose. A carefully crafted tease of something without an identifying factor. Clint only knew the arm was there because he knew what to look for, the rest of the bar patrons wouldn’t have any idea who he was, what secrets were inscribed on his body, not that they’d get close enough to try. 

It was slightly awkward without Natasha there as their buffer. Honestly Clint didn’t know Bucky very well, and Bucky wasn’t the most forthcoming person in the whole world. They’d met up in the bar a few times now, and Bucky had never drunk. But Clint wanted to smooth over the tension and get some banter going with the aid of Bucky being tipsy.

“How much of that will put you on your ass?”

Bucky leant forward slightly, a glint appeared in his eye “ain't been on my ass for 80 years, it would sure take something to get me there.”

Clint swallowed and realized he’d leant forwards unconsciously towards Bucky as he spoke, his intensity drawing Clint in. Clint slumped back against the rough patterned fabric of the booth, waiting for jug Natasha was bringing over to their table courtesy of their server. 

“Drink up boys.”

Clint had never needed to be told to drink twice. Bucky tipped his bottle back beside him. 

Somebody had gotten up to play the black standing piano in the corner of the room and there was loud laughter pouring from that corner of the bar, lit with lights of blue and yellow. The lights of the rest of the bar had dimed, but Clint could still see Natasha and Bucky clearly. 

A man started singing but he interrupted himself not two minutes later with a laugh and a “Sorry sorry! This is what you get when you bring your mates to open mic”.

Bucky lifted an eyebrow at Natasha as if to say ‘you really brought me to an open mic?’ and Clint was inclined to agree. Why would she willingly subject them to it? Music was not something they had ever bonded over. Natasha liked a more classical sound, Clint liked everything, including Wanda’s pop music and Bucky liked what Tony liked to call “emo music”. 

Clint was surprised to find his beer half gone and the next singer on stage was actually good, her voice husky and strong. Bucky was watching the corner with interest, his chin tilted up and his nose was perfectly straight from profile view. Natasha was eyeing Clint and Bucky, not having bothered to turn and watch the stage behind her. Her hair no longer looked red under the lights, it looked blue or blonde depending.

Clint was just about to ask Bucky to move so he could get out to go to the toilet when Bucky turned to him and opened his mouth to say something at the same time. Both stopped on the first word and stared at each other, waiting. Clint tried to talk again but so did Bucky and it grew awkward rapidly. Bucky bit his lip, presumably to let Clint know he could talk first and Clint flicked his eyes back up to meet Bucky’s before he said “mind jumping up? Gotta use the bathroom”. 

Bucky nodded and got up, standing next to the booth as Clint climbed out, a hand on Clint’s lower back for support. His hand was firm but cold, the metal glinted under the light. Clint swallowed and didn’t look back as he made his way to the black tiled bathrooms tucked into the corner of the bar. He went about his business and when he was washing his hands he looked up into the mirror above the sink and noticed how dilated and unfocused his eyes were.  _ Good _ . The drunker the better.

When Clint got back to their table Bucky stood for him automatically and then sidled up close to him again when he sat back down so that their thighs were pressed together. Clint didn’t know what to think about that. Was Bucky cuddly and affectionate when he drank? And with Clint instead of Natasha? Natasha who hadn’t moved but had two empty shot glasses in front of her in the space of time that he’d gone to the bathroom. As Bucky dropped his mismatched hands onto his lap Clint wished she’d gotten him one too, he couldn't stop looking at Bucky now. Like since he noticed Bucky relaxing into his side, his brain became hyper-aware of everywhere they touched.

“Another jug Clint?” Bucky asked, gesturing to his now empty one.

Clint shook his head, “Nat’ll get me a couple shots” he told him and gave Natasha a toothy grin she scowled at. She got up out of her seat regardless. There was a new performer on stage and Clint thought his eardrums might be bleeding. Bucky ducked his gaze from the stage and grinned at Clint’s unimpressed expression. 

“He’s no good is he?” Bucky mused an easy smile on his face, and Clint nodded heartily in agreement. 

It was the first time Bucky had seemed open, his whole demeanor had changed, warm, open, and his bottle had about three mouthfuls left. Clint thought the alcohol had dropped his guard and without Steve along to check on him every five minutes he seems to be enjoying himself. It was refreshing to see.

“One of the Howlies used to sing. We’d be walkin’ around camp and he’d be singin’ songs that would get stuck in the heads of everybody in the damn camp. Even Agent Carter hummed when nobody was lookin’” Bucky shared with Clint, eyes a warm blue, like the sky on a clear sunny day. 

Clint smiled, leaning back and dropping his hands to hook his thumbs in his jeans belt loops. Bucky’s eyes flicked down and back up to Clint’s eyes, quickly but not enough to hide the fact he’d followed the movement in the first place. 

Natasha pushed the shots across the table towards Clint and he pulled his attention from Bucky as quickly as he could. He reached up and didn't pause before taking one shot right after the other. She didn't bring him anything to chase it down with and he frowned.

Bucky leant back slightly from Clint and the side he’d been leaning against felt cold as he drank the last of his Tony-and-Bruce-made-bottle and slouched against the seat. The yellow light changed position and lit Bucky’s face up, highlighting his chiseled cheekbones. Clint swallowed and looked back at Nat. She was eying him already with suspicion that he knew was a result of his lingering look at Bucky, but really it was nothing. Clint rolled his eyes at her and sat up, readying himself to leave. 

“Can we stay a while? Those two are good” Bucky asked both Clint and Natasha, looking at them in turn. Clint didn’t really think much of the performers but clearly Bucky saw more than he had. Nat shrugged and Clint nodded agreeably. Bucky smiled wholeheartedly and it was bright enough that it seemed to change his whole face. His eyes crinkled in the corners and he showed his perfectly straight teeth. Clint wasn’t sure many people had ever seen Bucky look how he did in that moment, never mind in the 21st century. It was something small that was easy for Natasha and Clint to give him and Clint knew he’d be a sucker for making Bucky look like that again. If Bucky wanted to stay a while more and listen then it was the least they could do. 

However staying at the bar meant more drinks and shots, and as each act changed, Clint noticed that time was flowing a whole lot faster and things were a whole lot easier to drink. 

Natasha grabbed Clint’s bicep to stop him from getting up for more drinks. Bucky had downed seven shots since finishing his bottle and looked happy as can be, next to Clint on the bench seat. Clint wanted to catch up with him, even knowing that Bucky was a super soldier as much as Steve was and it would probably end with him on the floor at the end of the night. 

“Aim this bottle cap at the man at the bar” Natasha commanded, tapping it on the table to the rhythm of the guitar. 

Clint grinned. Ever since Clint had gotten drunker than drunk with Tony and she’d needed to roll him into the recovery position she had come up with a way of checking how drunk he was. If he could still aim reasonably well it meant he wasn’t  _ too  _ drunk. His aim was usually impeccable but would miss by inches if he was intoxicated.

Before Clint could flick the bottlecap his elbow slipped on the table and the cap fell to the ground. Bucky had been watching and bent down to pick it up the same time Clint did. They were able to stop  _ just  _ in time not to whack their heads together, but their faces were a lot closer than they had been before. Clint could smell the sickly sweet scent of the specialty alcohol on Bucky's breath, feel his breath ghost on his own lips. Bucky was looking right back at Clint, unmoving. 

Clint's eyes lit up in challenge. Bucky tilted his head slightly to the side in acceptance and they both remained in position. 

Clint leant forwards with the thought that Bucky would never let this get too far. He had to admit he wanted the Winter Soldier to chicken out. Steve had mentioned the way he and Bucky had grown up being dragged to church so he felt confident he would win. 

To Clint’s surprise Bucky started leaning closer, Clint held in a gasp and pushed his lips up to meet Bucky's.

Clint was shocked when their lips actually pressed together, and then again when Bucky didn't immediately pull away. Clint parted his lips and Bucky's tongue traced a line along Clint's bottom lip. It made goosebumps erupt over his skin. Desire twisted in Clint’s stomach so he threw caution to the wind and cupped a hand to Bucky’s jaw, deepening the kiss with his tongue. 

Suddenly it wasn’t a game of chicken anymore, because Bucky was leaning forwards, pushing himself as close to Clint as he could get without it being indecent, and one hand had found its way to Clint’s hip, the other to his neck. Every press of Bucky’s body against Clint’s was firm muscle, warm and undeniable. Clint’s body was on fire with lust, practically  _ singing  _ at the unexpected turn of events. Kissing Bucky was a dream, sexy and effortless. Clint couldn’t get enough. 

They both seemed to pull back to breathe at the same time, although Clint looked decidedly more dazed than Bucky did. A sly smile made its way onto Bucky’s face and he let out a breathless laugh. Clint turned his head to brace for Natasha’s reaction but she wasn’t there. On closer inspection her bag and coat were also gone. Clint looked up at Bucky who only shrugged in response. 

“Didn’t know you could kiss like that Barton.”

Clint licked his lips. “You never asked.” 

Bucky nodded, “I will now.”


End file.
